


Bonded Souls

by MagicalCatasrophe (MiraculousLadydork)



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: (the noble), 3rd person, Action & Romance, Angst, Assassins, Bisexual Female Character, F/F, Fantasy, Friends to Lovers, High Fantasy, Lesbian Character, Mages, Magic, Romance, Slow Burn, Soul Bond, Soulmates, bc all i can write is angst so you betcha there's gonna be some of that, im bad enough at tagging fanfiction wtf do i even put here, it switches between the two lead characters though, mentions of abuse, oh and a kingdom wide week long birthday party, oh and one has a baby, one is a deadly assassin and the other is a clueless noble, there's a heist going on at the same time obviously, there's also a folk dance in the street at night bc that's a necessary feature, there's also the necessary noble ball scene bc why not, they're gay and in love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-17 01:44:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13066551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiraculousLadydork/pseuds/MagicalCatasrophe
Summary: Some people don't think soul bonds exist; that they're just another fairy tale told to children to make them believe that there's something good in the world. Some people have found their bonded soul, and other don't know that the bonds even exist. Whatever you believe, soul bonds are real and can cause havoc when released - something Belle and Tessa are soon to find out.Belle Holt, formerly known as Isabelle Bancroft, wife of a noble, is on the run after fleeing from her abusive husband with her baby in the dead of the night. Tessa Cassidy is a member of the Unseen, a band of ruthless assassins and thieves for hire, and is next in line to be her faction's leader.Tessa, paid to hunt down and kill Belle, realises that there may be more truth in the story of 'soul bonds' than she imagined.WARNING;Story contains mentions of physical abuse.





	1. Belle - No Turning Back

**Author's Note:**

> First time publishing anything that isn't fanfiction in about ten years... And of course, it's gay.

It hadn’t begun like this. 

He’d been nice enough to start with. A little loud, a little obnoxious; not the kind of guy Isabelle would have chosen for herself, sure, but not _this_. 

It had started two years in to their marriage.

He never left marks.

Nothing that couldn’t be put down to the foolishness of clumsy women, or wouldn’t quickly fade. All he left was a stinging sense of disappointment and guilt, and left her on edge whenever his mood began to slip.

She remembered the moment when she’d realised she was pregnant. Most women said it was the happiest moment of their lives, but Belle felt like an ice cold hand had coiled it way around her heart and gripped it tightly.

Belle had always wanted a large family, with lots of children of her own to love and care for. But in her fantasy, she had loved the man who fathered her children, and he had loved her too. How could she bring a child into a house with this man in it?

What choice did she have?

But, to her disbelief, telling him about the baby had made things better. He’d become more attentive, more caring, more willing to accept her desire to sit beside the fire and read. Less likely to snap for little things, and he didn’t raise a hand to her.

The hand around her heart had loosened.

But here she was. It was just over six months after their daughter’s birth, and he'd already raised his hand and knocked onto the floor. She wasn’t even sure what she had done, or not done. Maybe she'd just been in the wrong place at the wrong time when his anger got the better of him. She didn't know, and wasn't sure she wanted to know. 

She'd landed just in front of a set of drawers, and both her behind and one of her cheeks were stinging. He was pacing in front of her, and she knew he was saying something by the way his face was flushed and the fact that his mouth was moving, but what exactly he was saying was lost to her. His voice sounded muffled and garbled, as if she had her head underwater, and there was a faint roaring in her ears that she could attribute entirely to the beating of her heart.

He ceased his pacing, and turned towards her. He was still talking, but she had no idea what he was saying. There were only two things that she was aware of right now, and they were the man standing above her, and her sleeping baby in the next room.

Fear unfurled in her chest like a flower, and spread ice cold dread through her veins.

Her baby.

What if he started on her baby?

Her anger and protectiveness spread like fire through her veins, melting the ice and chasing away her fear. There was nothing he could do to her that would stop her from doing everything she could to keep him away from her baby.

She clenched her fists, her knuckles scraping against the wooden floor, and made her choice.

She would not raise her child around this monster. She would take her baby and she would flee, and if she was going to go, she had to do it tonight, before she lost the courage.

Knowing this, it made the rest of his 'treatment' easier to endure.

*

Belle went to bed early that night, claiming a sore head and other aches and, like usual, he didn’t protest. When he came in later, she clung to the edge of the bed and pretended to be asleep, squeezing her eyes shut and praying to any god who would listen that he would believe her.

He did.

She waited for him to fall asleep, trying to keep her breathing slow and steady while her heart hammered so hard inside her chest she half expected to hear it. Thankfully, it didn't, and time stretched before her immeasurably as she laid next to the monster she had come to loathe, hearing nothing except the sound of his breathing.

When it had slowed enough and she could no longer stand it, she sat up slowly, trying her hardest not to jostle the bed and disturb him. She lifted the cover and slid her legs out of bed, flinching as her feet touched the cold of the wooden floor.

She stood, covering herself with her dressing gown. She glanced back over her shoulder to make sure he was still sleeping, and let out a small sigh of relief when she saw that he was. She was shivering, though whether it from the cold or from nerves, she didn't know. Belle clutched the dressing gown tighter to herself and set off towards the servants quarters.

The hallways were dark and empty, and the cold floor bit into the skin of her feet and sent chills up her legs. She pressed on, trying desperately not to think about what she would do and where she would go after this.

There was nobody around, but as she passed by the kitchens she could hear faint laughter and see light spilling out from underneath the door. She allowed herself a small smile, giving thanks for small miracles, and stole into one of the bedrooms.

She quickly crossed to a dresser and wrenched one of the draws open, pulling out a patched dress. She discarded her own clothes and changed quickly, hoping that the woman mind.

 _Once she hears that I'm gone she'll probably realise where her missing clothes have gone,_ she thought, straightening the skirt and hunting for a pair of shoes. _I hope Reginald's wrath isn't too great and that the owner of this dress doesn't suffer for it._

Belle knew that was wishful thinking, but she didn’t have time to worry because any moment she spent dawdling was another moment someone could discover her.

Turning, she fled the room and hurried down the corridor, heading towards her daughter's room.

She combed her hair out with her fingers as she walked, and as she did this she realised that the best solution would have been to plan in advance. To steal a set of clothes when nobody was looking, then stuff them under her dress and maybe take a walk through the city under the pretence of wanting to give her baby some fresh air.

No, that wouldn't have worked. A servant would accompany her and she wouldn’t be able to ditch them for long enough to change. And more people would be likely to notice her face in daylight. Either way, she’d already made her choice and this was it. No changing her mind. No taking it back.

She glanced at her reflection in a nearby mirror as she crossed through the dining room and stopped. Should she cover her hair, or would that make her stand out too much?

Then she rolled her eyes. A woman, walking alone with a baby at night? She was going to stand out whether her hair was covered or not. There wasn’t time for standing around, dithering. She had to get her baby and go.

*

Belle talked in low tones as she lifted the sleeping baby from her cot, trying to keep her from waking.

“Shhh,” She murmured, as the baby’s eyes began to flutter open and her tiny lips parted. “It’s okay.”

At the sound of her mother’s voice, the baby quieted, and relief spread through Belle’s chest, loosening a knot she hadn't even realised was there.

“There’s my girl,” Belle breathed, hugging the baby close. “We’ll be safe soon, I promise. I won’t let him touch you.”

She continued murmuring as she grappled with numerous blankets, wrapping the baby up warm in preparation for a cold journey of unknown lengths. She used another to tie the baby to her chest, making an impromptu baby sling that would leave Belle's hands free. She was well aware that it would make her more noticeable, but what choice did she have?

Finally, she slipped out of a servants door, amazed nobody had seen them. She took a deep breath of the night air, the cold was refreshing as it touched her skin and lungs. Surely her luck couldn’t hold? Something was bound to go wrong. 

As she made her away down the servants alley, a dark thought settled in the back of her mind; what if he was _letting_ her leave? What if he was testing her, to see what she would do when presented with the opportunity to escape. Maybe he wanted an excuse to do his worst. Maybe he wanted to humiliate her, to grind her into the dirt to remind her exactly how little she was worth and that she was to be tied to him forever. His property. Owned by a monster.

She started walking faster.

She just had to make it to the noble stable ranks. The yard hands would be asleep, she could take her horse and flee. Simple.

Stables. Horse. Flee. Simple.

She chanted every word in her head to the beat of every footstep, to the rhythm of her pounding heart.

Then she heard voices. Loud and male. Merry and laughing.

She became very aware of the baby against her chest.

She started to run.

She curled one arm around her daughter in order to hold her steady, and ran without looking back, through narrow streets and shadows, until the shape of the stables loomed before her.

She'd made it.

There was nobody waiting for her once she slipped inside the barn, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe it wasn’t a trap. Maybe he truly didn’t know. She had only thought of it that evening, after all.

She inhaled deeply, letting the smell of hay and horse hair fill her lungs and soothe her frayed nerves, taking the edge off her shivering. She allowed herself a few moments to lean against the barn wall, close her eyes and just breathe. In and out, feeling her panic ebb away.

Of the four horses currently housed in the stables, only one had looked up when she entered, and now she opened her eyes, pushed off from the wall and made her way towards him.  
His name was Strider, and had been a wedding gift from her family. Rubbing his velvety soft nose, she sighed again. He was beautiful, everything she had dreamed of when she was small. Finer than the common work horses, he was coal black and built for speed. She had longed to sit astride that strong back and feel the power and life of a wild animal beneath her. But she had never ridden him. Her family had meant the gift in good faith, she was sure, but it had felt like a joke. She could ride and ride well, but to her husband she had never been more than a status symbol or a trophy. They were not equals, they would not ride out together. She would not be able to ride out at all, as she would not be permitted to do such a thing without her husbands permission, which he would undoubtedly not give.

Using her momentary distraction, Strider lifted his head and began to lip at the baby, curious. Belle pushed his nose away with a small chuckle.

“No,” She chided, “You can’t eat her.”

Strider gazed at her imploringly out of his soft, dark eyes.

Belle shook her head, smiling. “Come on, let’s get you out.”

*

She took longer than she would’ve liked to put Strider’s bridle on, owing to her shaking fingers fumbling with the clasps. But she managed it, and then she was on board, taking every care not to crush her baby in the process.

Belle placed one hand on Strider's neck, threading her fingers through his mane and feeling the softness and warmth of his coat. She took a deep breath. 

“Take us away from here,” She whispered to the waiting horse, whose ears flicked back to show her that he was listening. “Take us somewhere safe.”

Then she gathered the reins and drove her heels into Strider’s sides, spurring him onwards. The horse's muscles tensed and then they shot of the stables at full speed, and disappeared into the night.  
The cold night air stung her cheeks and made her eyes water, but they shot away from the city at a blinding pace, Strider's hooves making no sound except a dull thudding on the grass. She could feel the lengthened stride of the galloping horse, and could feel her fear and anxiety slipping away the further they surged into the forest. The cobbled road was to their left through the trees; she didn't want to lose it but at the same time she didn't want to be on it.

She resisted the urge to whoop with joy, but only just. Her hastily cobbled together plan had actually worked!? She'd never felt so free, streaking through the woods on horseback at night; with the adrenaline and elation coursing through her veins still she felt like she could take on the world and win. She punched the air and mimed a victory shout, wearing a grin so large she felt like her face would split in two. 

Her baby continued to sleep soundly in the cradle against her chest, and she realised that a new day would be dawning soon – a new day for her new world.

*

Belle felt considerably lucky to have found this tavern. There was nothing outwardly special about it, just a modest two story building, with a thatched roof and a single story entryway jutting out slightly from the front. The second storey was part of an overhang, under which were a few posts to tie horses. A worn path trailed round the back, leading to a less than glamorous stable set-up that left a lot to be desired. 

It wasn't even on the road that Belle had been following; a worn path had wound away from the main path and disappeared into the trees. But, when the skies had opened and the rain began pouring down on them, she'd realised that she needed to find somewhere to take shelter, and fast.

She still wasn't entirely sure why she'd chosen to go off down the side trail inside of continuing on until she came by a roadside tavern or the next village, but something inside her had told her that it was the way she needed to go. And with the sudden onslaught of rain, it had forced her off the mail road and towards the tavern lights she could see winking in the distance. So, having no other plan or direction to go in and desperately wanting to keep herself and her baby try, she'd decided to follow whatever it was inside her that said this was the way she should go.

But, riding up to the tavern's front, she wondered what it was exactly that she was following, and why it had told her that here was the place to go? Rain rolled down her face and dripped from her nose as a knot of nervousness began to form, like a writhing ball, in the pit of her stomach. She drew Strider to a halt, the reins slick between her fingers, and stared at the dark wooden tavern door like something was about to burst out of it. 

_This really isn't a good idea,_ she thought, as she took in the tavern front. A few torches flickered either side of the door, clearly bewitched by a mage to stay lit even in the rain. She clenched her fingers around the wet reins; she felt really out of her depth. Who knew what would be waiting for inside that peaceful looking tavern?

Strider shuffled nervously beneath her, sensing her feelings. The ball in her stomach snaked out a tendril and ensnared her heart, pulling it downwards, sinking it into her stomach. Her chest constricted. She had no money, no plan, she didn't even really know how to talk to people -

 _Stop._

There was no use panicking about it; sure, she was Gods knows how many miles away from home with absolutely nothing to her name, but she had Strider. She was doing it for her baby. She'd had to believe that she'd find a way, and that's all that mattered.

The snare around her heart loosened.

She dismounted, and lead Strider round to a hitching post beneath the overhang and tying him up by his reins, leaving enough slack that he could drink from the trough at the post's base.

She gave his neck a single pat and dropped a quick kiss onto his wet nose.

“Be good,” She warned him, smiling.

He gazed at her, his warm dark eyes unblinking. She could almost imagine what he was trying to say – Why are you tying me out here in the rain, instead of in the nice warm stables over there?

She chucked, more to herself than anything, and rubbed her hand along his cheek. “I doubt we'll be here long, boy. I've got no gold to pay for anything. I'll just... ask for directions, and then we'll be on our way.”

Strider continued to simply gaze at her, and she pushed his nose away. “You're not helping,” She told him. “I'm not going back, I can't. It's not an option for me. For us.” She put a hand on her daughter's head. If she concentrated, she could feel her little heart beating against her own, and it gave her confidence. It gave her courage. 

And with that courage burning like fire in her veins, she turned on her heel and marched towards the tavern door before she could chicken out.

The inside was nothing like she'd expected. She wasn't quite sure what it was, exactly, that she had expected, but it wasn't what was in front of her. There were tables with various numbers of chairs dotted here around there around the floor. Steps on her left lead up towards the second level, which was more like a balcony than a whole other floor. It extended out maybe half of the tavern's actual length, and there were very few people around. There was one dark shape sitting in a chair at a table on the second floor, but in the flickering torchlight Belle couldn't make out exactly who or what it might be. The tavern was still rather noisy for the number of people inside, but as the people themselves were chattering loudly and animatedly, she figured it made sense. As her eyes passed over the shape on the second level, her heart gave an involuntary lurch; a silent signal directed from something unknown buried somewhere deep inside her. Confused, she shook her head, dropped a kiss on her baby's head for luck, and headed across the floor towards the inn keeper.


	2. Tessa - A Chance Meeting

Tessa decided she'd picked a good spot. She was on the tavern's second level, and as such she could keep an eye on the doorway without looking too interested, and could hold a conversation with her partner without running the risk of being overheard. Not that the inn keeper should mind, she'd taken one of his contracts not too long ago and, in payment, offered her his tavern to use to do business in. The business that involved the contract details and the exchange of money, at least. She didn't think he'd appreciate her conducting the other half of her business here, however, nor would he appreciate her terrifying the rest of his patrons.

Tessa tried not to make a habit of using the same place too often, though, other wise it made her too predictable and easy to track. She also tried not to make a habit of meeting the same client in the same place twice, but sometimes it couldn't be helped. The poor girl had sounded desperate when they'd first met, and Tessa had agreed to the second meeting. Curse Tessa's soft heart.

Tessa huffed a laugh. One of the most reckless and ruthless Blades in the Unseen - a band of ruthless assassins and thieves for hire - calling herself soft hearted? The others would laugh at her if they knew, and she wasn't sure any of them would agree with her, either. They knew her track record and history too well.

A small cough from the other side of the table drew Tessa out of her thoughts and back to the situation at hand.

“Enough pleasantries.” Tessa said, even though she had absolutely no idea what the girl had just said to her. She waved her hand dismissively, as if swatting away a fly. “Do you have it?”

“Yes.” The girl nodded, nervously, and dug around in her pocket before drawing out a small sack and passing it across the table. Tessa picked it up and opened it, quickly counting the gold inside before slipping it into a hidden pocket inside the lining of her cloak.

“Seems to be in order,” Tessa said, flipping out one of her knives and using it to pick the dirt out from underneath her nails. “Is there anything else you needed from us?” She asked the girl, peering over her fingers at her.

The presence of the knife had the desired effect, as the girl looked visibly stricken and shook her head. Tessa smiled, though the expression was lost behind the cowl she wore. It was considerably easier to hide your identity when nobody could see anything of you except your eyes, and it was the only piece of the Unseen armour that Tessa actually wore. Really, she didn't even need the cowl at all because she wore a shadow cloak; a fairly self explanatory rare enchanted cloak. It's colour shifted, swirling black and grey like shadows, rendering the wearer invisible when moving in shadow. But, given that she should be wearing all the pieces as a representative of the Unseen, she figured wearing the cowl was the least she could do. Wearing a mix of armours made her feel that she made herself unique. It wasn't exactly what she was supposed to do, but hey, Tessa always had been a rebel. The other bonus of the cloak over the cowl, was that the cloak hid her knife belt – nobody would dare come near her when they realised how many knives dangled from her waist. The rest of them were concealed in various places, strapped to the outside of her upper arms, thighs, calves, ankles, the smallest ones hidden along the small of her back. It took great skill not to slice herself with them all, but as a Knife Wielder she carried them with ease.

Resisting the urge to throw her knife into the table for dramatic effect, Tessa inclined her head towards her client. “You may go.”

Tessa tried not to laugh as the girl all but fled from her table, allowing herself a small chuckle only once the girl had made it down the stairs. She really shouldn't enjoy intimidating clients as much as she did, especially those who looked like they had absolutely no desire to betray her. Still, she had a reputation to uphold, particularly now as the Chosen were almost certainly keeping a close eye on her contracts after the Leader debacle. 

She leaned back in her chair, stretching out and wriggling her toes in her boots. She still couldn't quite believe they'd tried to make her a Faction's Leader, even though it had happened a considerable length of time ago. Most rumours about the selection process for a new leader always involved something barbaric – usually a fight to the death, which was completely wrong. They might be assassins and thieves, but they still had manners and morals. They were just... slightly different to those of the average person.

The Unseen was practically its own society, with a hierarchy and everything. There were four 'classes' within this society, though it could technically be said that there were five, if you want to be picky. Initiates, Blades, Leaders, and the Chosen. Initiates were exactly that, initiates. They were the thieves; Tessa had known some people who remained an Initiate for years simply because they didn't want to kill. Tessa had respected that. Factions weren't large, and typically there were one or two initiates per faction. Sometimes none at all.

Then came the Blades. Even though Blades made up the bulk of the group, there still weren't large numbers per faction, either. The smallest faction had three Blades, and the largest had only five. Just as Initiates were thieves, Blades were mostly assassins, with a few high skill thieves that made up the picky extra class – the Purses. It was a nickname that had formed after the Initiates who didn't want to kill had been forced to move up so they could be given contracts more suitable to their skill level.

Then, there were the Leaders. Leaders were the faction heads, they dealt directly with the Chosen and heard the received contracts, then delegated them between Blades and Initiates. They were the ones who chose which Blade would receive which contract. Most Leaders worked independently of their faction, choosing not to take contracts of their own and to live in the faction sanctuary, keeping a cut of a Blade's contract pay.

Tessa leaned forwards over the table, staring thoughtfully at the far wall. She still wasn't sure why they'd considered her as a possible replacement for the previous Leader. She was offered the position due to her dedication and skill as a Blade, but she had declined. It had been somewhat a contentious issue within the Chosen, as no Blade offered a Leader's position had ever refused before, but Tessa wanted no part of the leadership. Not yet, at least. She'd become a member of the Unseen to make a difference, not to become a Leader and tell others what to do. She wanted to take her own contracts and do her own thing, to stay out for days on end if she so desired. She didn't want to be responsible for the whereabouts of her faction, it was too much hassle and responsibility that she just didn't want. Thankfully, the Chosen had respected her decision, but she wasn't sure what would come from that. Would they offer her a position next time it came around, or would they bypass her completely?

In the end they'd given the position to Breanne, who had been 'honoured to accept'. Before she had, however, she had consulted with Tessa, to make absolutely sure that she didn't want the position. Even now, months later, Bree still consulted with her from time to time, treating Tessa almost as a second in command. It was strange, as Leaders typically worked alone, but she liked it.

And lastly, there were the Chosen. Chosen by the two Goddesses The Unseen followed; the Goddess of Revenge and the Goddess of Betrayal. Naturally, the specifics were beyond Tessa, but the Chosen essentially became vessels through which the Goddesses could communicate contracts. 

The tavern door opened, and Tessa's attention was drawn by the appearance of a distressed and drenched woman with a baby strapped to her chest. A glance out of the nearest window explained why the woman was now dripping water all over the tavern floor, but the baby... well, that was certainly something you didn't see everyday. Given how close it was to the Tavern's closing time, Tessa would've been surprised to see anyone entering the tavern now, but something about this woman seemed... off, to Tessa.

She was an expert at sizing people up on the spot, deciding who to trust and how best to approach them. You could say her life depended on it, even. More accurately, however, it was the life of the other person that depended on Tessa's assessment. 

But this woman was giving off multiple signals at once. The cleanliness of her hair and skin suggested that she was potentially nobility, but her clothes and the fact that she was in an out-of-the-way tavern, alone, suggested that she was from the poorer side of town. If Tessa had to guess, she'd stake gold on the fact that the mystery woman was a noblewoman in disguise. A clueless noblewoman, at that. It wasn't a particularly common thing, but it also wasn't that rare to see. The baby, though, that was definitely a surprise. What kind of person took a baby with them? 

Unless... 

_Oh no._

A disguised noblewoman. A tavern that was off the beaten track. A baby. Early hours of the morning.

Tessa mentally checked these things off in her mind, as she watched the woman wring water out of her hair, drop a quick kiss on her baby's head, then take a deep breath and cross the tavern floor - heading towards the inn keeper.

_Yes,_ Tessa decided, that's a noblewoman on the run; she looks terrified of this place. And I should definitely not get involved, she told herself, a little sternly. It was a bad habit of hers, sticking her nose into other people's business.

As she watched the woman discuss something with the innkeeper, Tessa was struck by the weird feeling that the woman was familiar to her, somehow. Maybe they'd met before. Maybe she was a previous client, one of the anonymous ones? No, Tessa would know if one of her clients was nobility, they didn't tend to hide themselves very well, if they even tried at all. 

She shifted in her chair, looking more intently over the railing that separated her from the drop to the ground floor.

Something seemed to be pulling her towards the unusual woman downstairs, some unknown force that wrapped its way around her mind like a creeping vine and tried to pull her out of her seat. For some reason, she felt like she absolutely needed to talk to that woman. Her skin began to tingle, and she subconsciously scrubbed a hand up and down one arm to combat it.

Tessa sighed, pushing off from the little table and standing up, feeling uncomfortable. While her gut feelings were usually reliable and she was very much a follow-your-instincts person, this one was not to be trusted.

It was time she was leaving, she'd been sitting at that table for far too long as it was; if she wasn't careful she was going to draw unwanted attention. This tavern wasn't exactly the kind of place where mercenaries were typically found, after all.

She made her way to the stairs and slowly began her decent, trying not to draw the eye of the mystery woman. She knew that if they made eye contact, this weird feeling was going to overcome her and she was going to get involved, and then things were going to get complicated. There was no reason for her to get involved in this woman's life other than the fact that Tessa was supremely nosy. So, as much as she wanted to strike up a conversation with this intriguing woman, Tessa crossed the floor and slipped out of the tavern door without being seen. Staying hidden was her speciality, of course.

Once outside, Tessa waited for her eyes to adjust. With the everlasting torches flickering on the walls behind her, it made the darkness stretching ahead seem closer. With her power, the adjustment wouldn't take long, but she breathed in the scent of the rain while she waited. It was refreshing after the stuffy heat of the tavern. It was no longer raining, but the dew drops sparkled on the grass in the hazy grey light of the coming morning. She smiled, then raised a hand up to dismantle her cowl, folding it over her arm and leaving her lower jaw open to the chill of the night. She ruffled her short hair with one hand, letting the air get to her scalp and revelling in the feeling after having her hair pressed down hotly onto her head under her cowl for so long. She took a deep breath, tasting the air on her tongue and filling her lungs with the cold refreshing night air.

In an odd way, it soothed her.

She made her way around to the side of the tavern where her horse was tied, thanking the Gods she'd had the foresight to tie him to a post under the overhang, instead of outside the tavern's front, like she usually did. Before she could reach her horse, however, she pulled up short. Only one other horse was tied in the same place as hers and Gods, what a horse it was! If there had been any doubt in Tessa's mind about the mystery woman being a noblewoman, they were erased as she took in the lines of the beautiful black stallion standing before her, her mouth falling open in surprise.

That was no commoner's horse. He belonged to a lady of high nobility, a lady of such stature who should be dressed in finery and accompanied by an armed escort. 

The stallion turned to look at her, gazing at her with his beautiful dark eyes, and Tessa chucked. She was such a sucker for animals.

“Okay, boy, let me see what I've got in these pockets.” She moved towards the horse, rummaging inside her cloak, “You never know when you have to bribe a strangers horse to come with you, so I'm sure I've got something here for you.” She said, drawing out a treat and offering it to the stallion with a flat hand. 

The horse craned his neck forwards and sniffed at the treat, blowing warm air onto Tessa's palm. Apparently deciding that what she offered was satisfactory, he lipped the treat from her palm and began crunching eagerly. 

Before he'd even finished the first treat, the horse began nosing at Tessa's cloak for more, knocking her off balance.

“Hey!” She laughed, pushing his nose away, “Don't bite a hole in my pocket, silly thing.”

“Oh, I'm sorry!” The voice caught Tessa by surprise, which was unusual, even though she'd heard the footsteps heading her way. She turned to face the speaker, one hand still keeping the stallion's nose out of her cloak, and tried to resist the urge to roll her eyes when she realised who the speaker was.

“Has Strider been bullying you for treats?” Asked the mystery woman, smiling nervously. Up close, she looked and sounded so little like any of the nobles Tessa had even encountered before, that she was momentarily thrown off balance. The mystery woman was certainly beautiful, but there was a look of youthful innocence and naivety about her that gave Tessa the surprising and rare feeling of being tongue tied.

“Uh-”

“I think he's just excited to be out,” She continued, approaching the horse. The stallion, which Tessa now knew to be called Strider, immediately lost interest in her in favour of his mistress. Tessa couldn't entirely blame him, she was interested in her, too. 

Tessa blinked back surprise as the woman closed the distance between them, moving to cradle the stallion's nose. Most people were afraid of being that close to a woman in full Unseen armour, even if they didn't know what it meant. This woman was either incredibly brave, or incredibly stupid. Given her noble status, Tessa was leaning more towards the second; the woman seemed to have no worldly experience. But all of this was erased from Tessa's mind as the mystery woman stepped so close to her that she could feel the heat from her skin and see the shadows under her eyes. 

Strider snorted, butting his head forwards and jostling the woman, causing her to take a step back, brushing her bare arm against Tessa's as she did so. Something like magic seemed to crackle between them, making Tessa jump slightly and the mystery woman look up sharply.

Mystery Woman seemed to feel it too, as she looked at Tessa with confused eyes, searching her face for an answer. She stared back, keeping her face carefully blank.

The shadows under Mystery Woman's eyes were more obvious now she was staring right at her, and Tessa found herself idly wondering what on earth had happened to this woman. Her mahogany hair framed her round face, making the paleness of her skin stand out even more than it would ordinarily; the first sign that she wasn't the outdoors type. Her face was streaked with tracks of rain, staining her skin ever so slightly. Tessa found it endearing, in a strange way.

The woman's face was cast into half shadow by the flickering light of the everlasting torches, but her large, round eyes stood out in her pretty face like saucers, the same deep brown as her hair. 

Mystery Woman blinked at her, wide eyed, and Tessa opened her mouth to stay something – anything - but was caught off guard by the light dancing in the Mystery Woman's eyes, highlighting the depth of colour. Tessa's voice died in her throat and she continued to stare at the other woman, lost in her eyes like one of those idiot women in those romance novels she was always hearing about.

Tessa wasn't entirely sure how long the silence stretched on for; it could've been seconds or it could've been years, but it was interrupted after what felt like an eternity by the sudden loud noise of everyone leaving the tavern.  
Mystery Woman and Tessa both flinched violently, and their eye contact was broken. Tessa felt particularly uncomfortable; she wasn't used to being surprised and it confused and annoyed her.

_Thank Gods_ , thought Tessa, turning on her heel and redirecting her gaze towards the stream of drunken tavern patrons. _That was weirdly intense_.

She watched the drunken men stagger away into the night, singing loudly and carrying away with them the smell of alcohol. They were a merry bunch, and ones that she knew fairly well; they were regulars at this particular tavern, and Tessa always made a point of recognising regulars so she could more easily distinguish any potential threats within a crowd. She watched them for longer than strictly necessary, letting her eyesight stretch as they disappeared into the gloom, using them as an excuse not to look back at Mystery Woman. 

She turned back around, keeping her eyes averted from Mystery Woman, ducked past Strider and headed towards her own horse. Well, she wasn't exactly sure whose horse he was, only that he was very friendly and hard working. He wasn't the fastest horse she'd ever stolen, but he was definitely the hardiest. 

The bay gelding whickered softly as he saw her approach, and she smiled at him, digging inside her cloak for another treat to offer him. His ears flicked forwards as she offered him her palm, and he stretched out to enthusiastically take the treat from her hand. She untied his reins with the other hand, throwing them back over his head.

In one swift movement, Tessa jammed her foot into the stirrup and swung up onto her horse's back, settling herself into the soft leather saddle, careful not to pierce herself with her knives.

“Oh! Is he yours?” Said the soft voice of Mystery Woman, and Tessa cursed inwardly. Could she not _escape_ that damned woman already?  
“He's gorgeous!” Her voice contained such a level of awe that Tessa found herself insulted on behalf of Strider, who was clearly the finer horse.

It was only after a beat of silence passed that Tessa realised the woman was waiting for a reply. She opened her mouth, unsure of what she was even going to say, when she was interrupted by the Inn Keeper.

“Hey, miss!” He said, and Tessa was so sure she had never been happier to see a man before in her life that it took her a moment to realise that he wasn't addressing her. The Inn Keeper was standing at the corner of the tavern, drying a tankard with a dish cloth that was so grey Tessa didn't think it had never actually even been clean before, let alone able to clean something else.

He inclined his head towards Mystery Woman. “I'm wanting to lock up - you got that gold to pay for a room or you gonna be on your way?”

Tessa flicked her eyes to Mystery Woman, who had one hand on her horse's nose and was looking considerably uncomfortable with the sudden turn of events.

“Uh...”

Inwardly rolling her eyes at herself and cursing her soft heart, Tessa made a snap decision.

“Here,” She said, holding out the bag of gold she'd received from her client. Mystery Woman jumped, startled, spinning on the spot.

“Take this.” Tessa told her, “Use it to pay for lodgings tonight, and keep the rest for yourself.” 

The mystery woman eyed it, suspiciously. Tessa couldn't exactly blame her, she didn't exactly look like a trustworthy person.

“What's the catch?” She asked, warily, narrowing her eyes.

_Ah_ , Tessa thought, smiling ruefully down at the woman, _maybe she's not_ completely _stupid, after all._

“No catch.” Tessa said, simply. “You look like you need it, and I certainly don't.”

When the woman continued to do nothing but stare at her, Tessa rolled her eyes for real and sighed in frustration. “Look, take it or don't, I don't care. But I have places to be, so if I were you I'd take it and let me be on my way.”

Slowly, Mystery Woman extended her hand, and Tessa dropped the bag into the woman's waiting palms. It made a satisfying jingling as it landed, and the mystery woman's facial expression of astonishment was well worth the trouble Tessa was bound to receive for 'losing' her client's payment.

She pulled one rein, turning her horse around her leg and facing him out into the night. The woman was still staring at her, her eyes wide with amazement, and Tessa couldn't stop herself from smiling.

“Good luck, Princess.” She said, briefly raising her eyebrows up to emphasize the nickname. Mystery Woman's mouth fell open and Tessa laughed, feeling strangely light, like something inside her had been set free. She nudged her horse forwards, still laughing, and left the light of the tavern behind her.


	3. Belle - Traveller's Rest

The darkness swallowed the cloaked woman quickly after she left, but Belle continued to stare in the direction they'd vanished, her heart hammering against her ribcage, until the Inn Keeper spoke again, making her jump.

“Some friend you've got there.” He said, leaning against the tavern wall and raising one eyebrow.

“I don't -” Belle's voice felt strangely hoarse, and the image of how the cloaked woman had stared at her in the firelight flashed in her mind. Belle cleared her throat. “I don't know her.” She said, finally tearing her eyes away from the trail the cloaked woman had left in the impenetrable darkness .

“Well, I wouldn't've said Tessa was one to give away gold freely like that, but maybe I'm wrong.” The man sighed, and unpeeled himself from the wall. “Either way, that'll more than cover the cost of your room for you and your baby, and the stable for your horse, here.”

Belle continued to stare at him blankly, but he just shook his head and laughed. 

“I'll put him away for you, you go on up and get settled. All the rooms are free, take your pick.” He told her, untying Strider's reins. 

As the Inn Keeper lead her horse off towards the stable, Belle turned again to face in the direction that the strange woman had disappeared.

“Tessa...” She breathed, as though testing the way the woman's name sounded on her tongue. She thought of the woman's short hair and mischievous smile, and felt something come loose inside her.

*

Belle traipsed inside the tavern, breathing a sigh of relief and relishing the feeling of the warmth inside. She wasn't going to question the kindness of a stranger, at least not now that the bagged gold was a heavy weight in her hand. She cast a cursory glance around the tavern, before making her way over to the stairs and trotting up them. The rooms that the Inn Keeper had mentioned were at the end of the little balcony, stretching the length of the tavern. With dull interest, she realised that they were probably on the overhang that she'd seen from the outside, but she didn't acknowledge the thought and instead beelined straight for the first door.

The room was nothing fancy, just a low bed on a wooden frame and a little end table. The bed cover looked scratchy and stiff, but all she cared about was that she'd be able to sleep somewhere warm.

There was no mirror inside the little room, but there was a window. Darkened by the outside, Belle caught sight of her own reflection and had to hold back a gasp. The rain had flattened and matted her hair, and left tracks down her face.

“I look completely different,” she said, her voice breaking the silence, “Hopefully, that means nobody will recognise me.”

She scrubbed at her cheeks absently, drawing closed the flimsy curtains and turning towards the tiny bed.

Her baby was still fasted to her chest, but the outer blanket of the sling was now wet and she was beginning to fuss. Not wanting her to get sick, Belle unravelled the blankets and peeled the baby from her chest. She laid her down on the bed, where she immediately began kicking her little arms and legs around inside the wad of blankets.

Belle allowed herself a laugh, before she began the careful process of freeing her daughter from the thick swaddle of blankets. She was wrapped fairly tightly, and as Belle unwrapped the final blanket she instantly started to roll away.

“Oh, no you don't!” Belle said, catching her with her hands around her middle, lifting her into the air and planting a kiss to the baby's stomach. “Come on, let's go and find somewhere that we can wash up – I think you need it, little one!”

Settling the baby back into her arms, she scooped up the wet blankets and headed out of the door and back into the tavern. There was a metal box fireplace standing in the corner at the top of the stairs with a wooden rail extending around it, connecting the two walls. Belle draped the blankets over the rail, hoping the heat from the fire would dry them so she could use them again when they moved on.

“I was just coming to check on you; ya need anything?”

The Inn Keeper's voice made her jump, and she turned to find him climbing the stairs next to her.

“Um,” Belle bit her lip, nervous of finding herself alone with a man she didn't know, her baby cradled in her arms. “Somewhere to wash the little one, and maybe some food for her, too?” She asked, quietly.

He nodded. “I'll show ya.” He turned and headed back down the stairs, gesturing for her to follow him. So she did, shifting her baby to one arm so she could hold her skirts up with the other.

He led her across the tavern and showed her to a door just beside the bar at the back of the tavern, almost under the stairs. She thanked him, and ducked inside. There was only a sink and a toilet, but as that's all she had, she would have to make do.

She ran the water in the sink, wondering who was the mage that had spelled this particular tavern. With the torches outside, and now the running water, clearly somebody powerful had been here before and liked it enough to cast household spells around the place. Maybe even someone in the Inn Keeper's family, if they lived nearby. Family would make the most sense; Belle's home before had been spelled simply because they had the money to pay for it all, though she didn't imagine that the tavern made that much. But, she also had no idea how much those kinds of spells cost a person. 

She tested the water with her hand, trying to decide whether or not it was too hot to wash her baby in. The baby in question was starting to fuss for real now, letting out little snuffled cries.

Belle hefted her with her arm, then unravelled her clothes and slipped her into the sink to wash her off. She leaned over sideways, lowering the dirty wrap onto the floor, before straightening up and flipping the clean wrap over her shoulder to free both her hands

“We're going to need to find you a new name,” She told the baby as she began to wash her, “Me too, actually. I think Isabelle and Orla are far too obvious names to start giving out to people, especially if he's out looking for us.” She paused, watching as Orla began kicking with her chubby legs and splashing the front of Belle's dress with water. “Do you think he is looking for us?” She asked the baby, as she shut off the water.

Predictably, Orla said nothing but simply gurgled happily at her mother, waving her little arms and spraying water droplets everywhere. Belle flinched as some hit her in the face.

“I need more hands,” she muttered, holding Orla steady with one hand and pulling the clean wrap off her shoulder with the other. Thankfully, she hadn't got Orla that wet, so she dried off the worst of the water with one corner of the wrap, then lifted the baby out of the wet sink and bundled her back up. She hefted Orla up, pressing her against her shoulder, holding her steady with her hand, then leaned down and picked up the dirty wrap. Dropping it in the sink, she turned the water back on and began the difficult task of washing it out with only one hand.

With nowhere safe to set her baby down, she wasn't going to be able to wash the rain out of her hair, so settled for simply splashing some water on her face to wash away the rain tracks, and using the now clean wrap to scrub off what felt like a layer of grime.

Feeling better, she left the little wash room and headed back to her bedroom, Orla babbling happily now she was clean and dry. The Inn Keeper was nowhere to be seen.

She added the washed wrap to the fireplace on the way past, before shouldering through the door to her room. The Inn Keeper was already inside, and hearing her enter he straightened up.

“There ya are, miss! Look what I found for you!” He gestured to a rough wooden cot that was sitting opposite the bed, and she realised that's what he'd been bent over as she entered.  
“I figured you'd be wanting somewhere for ya littl'un to sleep, so I dug this up from out the back, carried it up here, and stuffed it with blankets for ya.” 

Belle's surprise must have shown on her face, because he laughed at her.

“Don't you worry about it none, miss. An I won't be chargin' ya extra for it, either – ya look like you could be usin' the help.” He held up his hands in a placating gesture, but Belle felt her heart plummet into the region of her feet. “I won't pry, but it ain't every day that we get a pretty woman like you come by, an it definitely ain't everyday ya see a woman and a baby passin' through.”

“Don't tell anyone.” She blurted, before she could stop herself. “I...” She trailed off, unsure of how to proceed. While she knew that carrying Orla would make her stand out, but the reality of exactly how obvious it made her was jarring. While she knew that staying with her husband would be dangerous, she hadn't quite realised how dangerous running away would be. 

She opened her mouth to say something else, but was interrupted by the door banging open. Belle jumped, her head snapping towards the open doorway. Standing there was a middle aged woman in a dress equally as shabby as the one Belle currently wore. In her hands she was clutching a steaming bowl that contained a smooth white substance and a wooden spoon.

“Ed, what have you been saying to this poor girl, she looks terrified!” The woman announced, before striding forwards towards Belle and placing the steaming bowl into her free hand. Belle blinked, trying to hold back her surprise. Judging by the amused smile on the woman's face, she was failing miserably. Clearly, she wasn't particularly good at keeping her emotions off her face, something that was surely going to come back to bite her.

“That's boiled down rice for your baby,” The woman told her, patiently. “And as you're the only guest staying here, you're more than welcome to come join us for breakfast tomorrow morning. Faye will be up in a moment to dry your clothes for you, too.” The woman added, smiling kindly.

Belle stared at her, stunned. “Th-thank you.” She managed, though her voice came out sounding quite thin. Why were these people being so nice to her? 

“Oh you poor thing!” As if sensing her thoughts, the woman rushed forwards and drew Belle into a hug, an impressive feat considering the fact Belle had a baby in one hand and a bowl of rice in the other. 

“Uh...” Belle began, as the woman released her, but before she could say anything the woman had already turned on her heel and left the room, drawing the door closed behind her. 

There was a beat of silence, then the Inn Keeper – Ed - started laughing. Belle watched him for a moment, to shocked to say anything herself.

“I'm sorry about that,” He said after a while, “That was Dianne, my wife. She's a empath and can be a bit... forwards, at times. I'm not even sure she realises she's doing it. She means well, though, honest.”” He glanced at the door, smiling a little wistfully. Then he shook his head and shrugged, “I best be getting back down there, before I get in trouble for not helping with dinner!” Chuckling to himself, he crossed to the door and left.

Belle sank down onto her bed, feeling light headed. But there was no time for her to dwell on anything; Orla needed feeding.

Balancing the wooden bowl awkwardly on her knees, she shifted Orla around until she was sitting in her lap, propped up against Belle's left arm, leaving her right arm free. She scooped up a small amount of the rice, bringing it across her lap and offering to Orla. Obediently, the little girl opened her mouth for the food, and Belle smiled. _Thank the Gods she's not being difficult_ , she thought, as she spooned the rice into the baby's mouth and tried to stop her from dribbling most of it down her chin.

*

Belle was just setting the half empty bowl down on the night-stand when there was a hesitant knock on the door.

“Miss?” Came a muffled voice from the the other side of the door. “I'm here to dry your clothes for you.”

“Oh!” Belle said, “Come in!” She lifted Orla from her lap and set her down on the floor, watching with a smile as the baby immediately began dragging herself across the room to investigate the legs of the night-stand.

She stood up just as the door opened, and a young round faced girl, wearing a plain dress covered by a grey apron stepped into the room, smiling shyly.

“I'm Faye,” she said, lifting a hand in a half wave, “I'm an Air Mage.”

“Belle,” Belle said, unthinkingly, inclining her head towards Faye, “Honoured to make your acquaintance.”

Faye smiled widely, then lifted her hands so they were outstretched towards Belle in what would be considered a 'stop' gesture. “Close your eyes,” Faye told her. 

Belle had never directly encountered Mage magic before; she'd only ever come into contact with spelled objects, anything else had been brought to her by her maids. So, when Faye's blast of warm air hit her for the first time, Belle felt her mouth lift at the corners. It didn't feel so much like the air was blowing straight over her like a breeze would, but that it was wrapping around her in a warm embrace. It was a delicious feeling, and one that she decidedly wanted to feel more of. 

Eventually, the air stopped, and Faye told her to open her eyes. “Your dress should be dry now, Miss, as should your hair.”

Patting down both her dress and her hair, Belle found that not only was this true, but that her dress and hair were considerably warmer that they had been before. 

“Thank you very much, Faye. I know I will certainly be much more comfortable tonight, thanks to you.” Belle told her, smiling warmly.

Faye beamed at her.

“You're most welcome, Miss!” Faye gave an awkward curtsey, “I'm sure you and your little one'll be wanting to sleep now, so I'll be leaving you in peace.” 

She was half out of the door, when she turned, “I'll be seeing you for breakfast, I'm sure?”

Belle smiled, “Absolutely.”

*

Belle scooped Orla up, tossing her into the air and blowing raspberries onto her stomach. The little girl squealed in delight, waving her arms and legs around and narrowly missing hitting Belle in the head.

“Okay, feistypants, it's time for bed.” Belle declared, throwing back the covers and slipping fully clothed between the sheets, tucking Orla between her side and the wall. She was grateful for the crib Ed had brought up, but tonight she wanted the comfort of knowing Orla was right beside her.

The duvet was scratchy against her face as she drew it up over her shoulders, but it was warm and the mattress was soft and so she sent a small thank you to whichever God or Goddess had herded her towards this particular tavern. All the people she had encountered so far on her trip had been unfathomably kind to her, a trend that she knew wouldn't continue but was thankful for nonetheless.

“We still need new names though, baby...” Belle mused aloud, “Or at least, you do. I already gave mine to Faye, like an idiot.”

Belle glanced down at the top of her baby's head, the little girl curled up on her side, sucking her thumb and breathing peacefully. No names were coming to her head just then, so she closed her eyes and vowed that she'd deal with that problem in the morning. With her eyes closed, the image of Tessa's twinkling eyes swam, unbidden, to the forefront of her memory.

Her glittering, amber eyes.

“Amber...” Belle murdered, sleepily. “I like it.”

*

The next morning dawned bright and clear, no hint of the rain from the night before. Rays of light were already streaming in from around the edges of the curtains when Belle was woken up by Orla leaning over her, her face inches from Belle's own. Seeing Belle's eyes open, Orla squealed with delight, patting her mother's cheek. The shrill noise rang straight through Belle's head, leaving her with little doubt that she now had to get up.

She groaned, sitting up and letting Orla roll away across the bed towards the wall, babbling happily to herself. Rubbing sleep out of her eyes, she swung her legs out of bed and yawned widely. Stretching, she got to her feet and padded over to the window, throwing open the curtains and gazing out at the view she hadn't be able to see the previous night, while still keeping one eye on Orla.

One thing she definitely hadn't noticed the night before was the river that ran along the side of the Tavern, and that she imagined probably wound it's way behind the stables, although she did dimly remember crossing a bridge at some point. On the other side of the river stretched the forest she'd ridden through that night, the very same forest that Tessa and her horse had disappeared into.

_I wonder where they were headed_ , Belle thought idly, squinting into the distance. Was that a city she could see rising at the far reach of her vision? A mountain? Or nothing, and she was just imagining things?  
Rolling her eyes at herself, she turned away from the window, just in time to see Orla tip forwards off the mattress and attempt a swan dive onto the floor. Luckily, Belle caught her just in time, scooping her up and lifting her high into the air, the baby crowing loudly the entire time.

Staring up into her baby's green eyes, Belle was suddenly aware that they were standing in a tavern miles from home, Gods only knows where, and her husband was miles away, with no idea where they were, unable to touch them. Elation fizzled up inside her, and she smiled widely.

“We did it, baby! We did it!” She cried, bouncing Orla in the air and spinning her around. “And what do you think of Amber, huh? Would you like that to be your new name? A name that is ours and has nothing to do with _him_?” She asked the baby, bringing her back down and holding her at eye level. 

Orla simply smiled back at her, gurgling slightly.

Belle laughed. “I'll take that as a yes. Welcome to your new life, Amber!” She said, pulling Amber in and kissing her on the forehead. Then she paused. “But first, you need another wash.”

Settling Orla – no, _Amber_ – on her hip, Belle shuffled towards the door, stepping out into the Tavern. Judging from the smell wafting from downstairs, it seemed that the Inn Keeper and family were awake and cooking breakfast, giving Belle good chance to wash up.

She checked the few blankets and the wrap she'd laid out in front of the fire the night before, and was pleased to find them warm and dry. Whether it was because the fire had dried them out or because Faye had intervened, she didn't know but also didn't stop to think about. She picked up the spare wrap as she moved past them, before heading down the stairs and into the little wash room.

Washing Amber was faster the second time around, and Belle smiled to herself. “I must be getting the hang of this,” she said aloud, as she narrowly dodged the water Amber was splashing around. “Though it would help if you didn't attempt to flood the room, Missy!” She said, poking Amber in the stomach and making the baby laugh.

“Come on,” She said, lifting the giggling baby out of the sink, “Let's get you dried and wrapped and then we can go out and hopefully find some breakfast!”

Breakfast found them as they left the wash room; Dianne was laying out roughly hewn cutlery on one of the Tavern's tables but she looked up as Belle emerged, and she waved them over.  
“Did you sleep well?” She asked, smiling.

“I did,” Belle nodded, “Amber here only had me up once or twice, so I mostly slept straight through.”

Dianne cocked her head to the side. “Amber? That's an unusual name. A lovely one, though. It definitely suits her, doesn't it?” She said in a silly voice, directing it towards Amber herself. Amber gurgled a laugh in reply, and Dianne chuckled.

“How does fresh eggs for breakfast sound?” She asked, looking back at Belle.

“That sounds delicious, thank you! Is there anything we can do to help?”

“Absolutely.” Dianne nodded, “Sit here, and wait for Faye to come out with your plates.”

“Oh no, I couldn't possibly-”

“Sit.” Dianne commanded, pulling out the nearest chair and pointing into it.

“Really, I couldn't-”

Laughing, Dianne grabbed Belle's shoulders and dragged her forwards, pushing her down into the seat. Belle allowed herself to be manhandled, laughing the whole time. It felt good to joke about with someone and to laugh; she hadn't realised how long it had been since she'd felt so happy, even if it was only over breakfast in a strange Tavern with strange people.

As Dianne disappeared through a door behind the bar, Belle allowed herself a moment to think, smoothing down Amber's few thin brown locks as she did so. She didn't have much of a plan yet, which posed a problem when she considered that she had to be leaving soon. And, she didn't yet know what Reginald's reaction to her disappearance would be. He'd never been the most... rational of men, so she didn't imagine that it would be anything positive. At best, he'd simply write her off as a useless doxy, and at worst... well, she didn't even want to think about that. Still, it would be best for her to find a city to hide out in for a while, though she wasn't sure exactly how she planned to do that, either.

She put a palm to her cheek. This was harder than she'd anticipated. She hadn't imagined sunshine and rainbows, but she didn't have the first clue about where she should go or what she should do. How was she going to find somewhere to live? How was she going to find gold to pay for somewhere to live and things to eat? How was she going to be able to disappear so that her husband couldn't find them? It all seemed so impossible. All the thoughts began swarming at once, and Belle covered her face with both hands. How could she have done this to herself? To Amber?

“Bah?”

Two warm little hands pressed into her arms. 

Moving her hands slightly, Belle looked down to see Amber gazing up at her, concern etched into her little face and filling her warm green eyes. Belle felt a surge of affection for the little girl, followed immediately by a surge of guilt. _How could I do this to you?_

_No,_ she thought, forcing the feeling of guilt down. _I can't feel guilty for taking her away from that – that man. She was in as much danger there as she is here. We're together, and that's what matters. We'll find a way. Any way. I have to believe that._

The thoughts solidified like iron inside her, grounding her and giving her hope. She smiled down at Amber, pressing her hands into the little girl's tummy and tickling her, making her laugh.

“Thank you, baby.” She murmured, dropping a kiss onto the squirming baby's head.

The sound of the door reopening drew Belle's attention, and she looked up in time to see Faye come struggling through the doorway, carrying three wooden plates stacked preciously along her arms.

Belle shifted in her seat, intending to stand and go to help her, when she spoke.

“Don't you dare, Miss. You're our guest, it'd be my honour to serve you.” Faye said, slipping around the bar and crossing the tavern floor. “Besides, I think if you tried to move one of these I'd just drop them all!” She added, with a wry smile.

“Faye!” Dianne burst through the door behind her daughter, and jogged after her, “I told you not to take all of those at once!”

“Ah, leave her be, darl',” Said Ed, leaning up against the door frame, a plate in each hand. “She's only tryin' ta help.”

“She'll not be helping when someone's breakfast ends up on the floor,” Dianne said, but she stopped trying to take one of the plates from Faye's hands, and settled for just hovering nervously behind her. Belle stifled a laugh behind one hand.

Faye shuffled around the table, leaned over Belle and Amber – Amber immediately reached up with chubby arms to try and grab a plate – and let two plates slide off her arm with a clatter. Dianne winced, but everything stayed on the plates. The breakfast itself was fairly bland compared to Belle's usual standard, but it all looked nice nonetheless; eggs, a selection of fruits, and a hunk of bread each, accompanied by a rich butter. The second plate was a breakfast made especially for Amber; scrambled eggs.

“Our chickens laid those eggs this morning!” Faye told Belle proudly, as she slipped into the chair next to her. Dianne sat down opposite her and Ed filled the last place, setting one of the plates he carried in front of his wife and the other in front of himself.

“Well,” Dianne said, picking up a fork, “Enjoy, everyone!”

Breakfast wasn't a quiet affair; Faye pulled faces at Amber all through breakfast, making the little girl laugh and clap her hands. This also had the adverse effect of causing Amber to smear most of her scrambled egg over her face and on the table in front of her. Thankfully, Dianne just laughed when she did this, but Belle still apologised over and over again.

Dianne and Faye kept up a steady stream of conversation once they had finished eating, which was fine by Belle. The more talking they did amongst themselves, the less they were asking about her. Inevitably, however, the conversation turned towards her.

“So, Belle,” Dianne began slowly, “What are your plans for today?”

Belle felt her stomach begin to sink, and felt the writhing ball of nervousness begin to re-knot in her stomach.

“Because we were thinking of sending Faye down to the city market,” Dianne continued, in the wake of Belle's silence, “And we were wondering if you'd like her to accompany you – you know, if you're heading the same way?”

Relief flooded through Belle, a sudden burst of warmth that she struggled to keep her face straight, lest she give away just how desperately thankful she was for their suggestion. A lump of gratitude rose into her throat for these strangers, choking back her reply.

“I -” She cleared her throat, “I'd like that very much.” She said, ducking her head so they wouldn't see her blurring eyes, “Thank you.” She added, quietly.

“You're very welcome.” Dianne replied, equally as softly.


	4. Tessa - More Than Children's Stories

Tessa stewed the whole way back to the city. She took her time, reluctant to return and have to explain why she'd dumped her whole pay onto a random stranger she'd met outside the Traveller's Rest tavern. Especially when she wasn't even sure herself why she'd done it. She sighed, dropping the reins and scrubbing her hands through her short hair, letting the night air permeate her scalp as if the cold could help her understand and could sooth Tessa's rapidly fraying nerves. Mystery Woman was fast sinking under Tessa's skin in way that she did not and would not think about, despite the free thing in her chest demanding to be noticed.

The Mystery Woman's deep brown eyes flickered in Tessa's memory, causing her to flinch. With her soft round face, she looked so much like - 

_Nope_. Tessa thought, sternly, shutting the thought down before it could escalate. The woman was beautiful, yes, in a sort of innocent and naive kind of way, but she wasn't going to start comparisons between this woman and her past. Ghosts from her past could stay there, in the past where they belonged.

Picking the reins back up, she nudged her stolen horse on again. While he was a very friendly creature he was also not the fastest of rides, and had a habit of slowing to a plod if not properly motivated every so often. It was more tiring to keep on at him than Tessa would've liked to admit, so they generally walked at a slower pace anyway. She was already late, another half an hour wouldn't make that much of a difference at this point. 

Sighing, she realised she was going to have to enter via the Waterways instead of through the main house. Her faction was one of the smallest so was based in a smaller city. They had a main house, then a few smaller, mostly empty, houses dotted around the city and all connected by underground tunnels, nicknamed the Waterways. The tunnels were like a maze, they curled back on each other and crossed over in all sorts of ways; you could get yourself hopelessly lost and going round in circles if you didn't know the way through.

Grumbling to herself for her own stupidity – although she knew Bree wouldn't mind too much, it was still just a matter of pride – she kicked her horse into a trot, telling herself that she was going to think about anything except the Mystery Woman. Which naturally, made it impossible to think about anything else.

*

The city was gorgeously empty to Tessa as she strolled through the streets, aiming for the closest safe house. There was noise coming from somewhere, almost certainly one of the taverns that seemed to be open all night. Despite the lack of people, Tessa kept to the shadows out of habit, her boots making no noise on the cobbled stone road. The lanterns that hung overhead cast pools of warm firelight in circles down the street.

The safe house wasn't far from the stables, which was where she'd tied the stolen horse. He'd no doubt be discovered by the time she left the next time, and she wasn't too sad. She would miss him a little – he was a horse very easy to like – but the less time she spent on a stolen horse, the better. As most people rode the same horse every time they went out, she figured people were unlikely to connect the dots between all her horses. It also made her harder to track, if people were watching for a specific horse. Gods know they couldn't pick her face out of a crowed, covered up as she was.

Reaching the safe house, she climbed the two stone steps, pushed open the wooden door and stepped inside. The first thing she noticed was the smell of stale air and the taste of dust; this was definitely one of the less used safe houses. Some of the houses were lived in by Blades and their partners, which seemed unusual to some, but Initiates weren't yet trusted to have free rein of the city and partners were protected by Unseen Law. But this house definitely wasn't lived in; Tessa could tell by the dust that lingered on her fingertips after she ran them across a tabletop. She drew her hand away in surprise, upset at herself for disrupting the dust. _Way to be subtle,_ she thought, sarcastically, irritated at making such a rookie mistake. _Even Initiates wouldn't make a mistake that obvious._

She'd entered into a long, low room that spanned the entire length of the house. A few everlasting torches flickered on the walls, casting the house's furniture into eerie shadows. There was a table sitting in the corner to her left, the one she'd run her fingers over. An open, wooden cabinet stood in the opposite corner, with an empty weapons rack lining the wall beside it. A cold, ash filled firepit was sunken into the floor not too far from the doorway, with a pot suspended over the top, an open cabinet against the wall on one side of the pit, and a low chest of drawers and two shelves against the wall on the pit's other side. Two chairs and a small end table sat facing her across the fire pit, an empty glass bottle sitting neglected on the end table.

Tessa picked her way through the dust, trying hard not to disturb any more of it and make it obvious someone had crossed through recently. If she'd known the house was going to be that dusty, she would've walked further through the city and dealt with the fallout of waking up other Blades. They might not have even been in anyway, she was just avoiding them for the sake of not talking about the Mystery Woman any more than she had to.

She passed the fire pit, ducked under a flight of stairs, and slipped through the door in the left wall, opposite from a long dining table, its bench pulled out at an odd angle. The room appeared to be a child's bedroom, with two small single beds and trunks at the end of each one. A rug was spread across the floor in the middle of the room, and it was beside the corner of this that Tessa crouched down. She carefully lifted the rug, revealing a little of the trapdoor underneath. A heavy metal ring was pressed into a circular groove in the door's surface, and with scrabbling fingers Tessa pried the ring up and gripped it tightly.

Folding the rug back over the trapdoor with one hand, she pulled on the ring with her other. It didn't budge. Frowning to herself, she slipped her other hand underneath the rug, gripped the cold metal handle in both hands, then hauled it open with all of her strength. 

“Someone needs to do maintenance on that door,” she muttered to herself as she lowered herself onto the floor, dropping her legs into the hole now gaping in the bedroom floor. Settling her feet onto the rungs of a ladder, she shuffled herself forwards, testing that the ladder was still strong enough to hold her weight. 

Satisfied, she swung herself forwards completely into the hole, pulling the door closed with the hand that wasn't holding herself on the ladder. With some difficulty, she managed to unfold the rug so that it would hopefully fall back into place once she let the trapdoor drop shut over her head.

The seal of the trapdoor snuffed out the light from the everlasting torches in the house above, throwing the Waterway tunnel into complete darkness. Only Tessa's enhanced eyesight could just about pick out the tunnel ahead of her. That, and the fact that she'd walked through these tunnels almost every day for the last ten or so years meant Tessa could walk from the spot she'd dropped down in, to the large wooden door that marked the basement of the Unseen's main house with no trouble. Hooking her thumbs into loops on the knife belt around her hips, Tessa set off through the Waterways, whistling tunelessly to herself.

Eventually the tunnel began to grow lighter, before turning a corner and depositing Tessa in a large stone chamber, illuminated by the single torch. The torch and chamber marked the end of the tunnel, lighting up the high, arched wooden door set seamlessly into the stone wall at the opposite end of the chamber. There was no handle on the door, in fact there were no marks on it at all that suggested how to open it, and despite its outward look Tessa wasn't entirely sure whether the thing was even made of wood.

Freeing her thumbs from her belt, Tessa rolled her shoulders and placed a palm against the door. There was a second of silence, then a disembodied hissing noise filled the chamber.

In the back of her mind, Tessa remembered her reaction the very first time she'd touched the Unseen Door and heard the hissing. She'd been a young and frightened little girl, dirty with mud and a mixture of blood that both was and was not hers. She'd screamed when the hissing started, and shot backwards so fiercely that she'd missed the tunnel opening and collided with a wall, shuffling along it until she could press herself into a corner, clutching her knife in both hands, holding it out in front of her. Despite how terrified she'd been, despite how shaky her breaths had been, the point of the knife had been still and steady.

Smirking to herself, she closed her eyes and bowed her her slightly. “My name is Tessa.” She told the door, calmly ignoring the hissing, “I walk in shadows and in darkness, I hear the voice of Betrayal and Revenge. I seek shelter with my brethren, the Unseen.”

As the hissing faded away, Tessa lifted her head and opened her eyes, letting her hand drop from the door to hang loosely by her side. With an ease that seemed unnatural for a door so large and ancient, the door swung inwards, allowing Tessa to saunter inside the cavernous stone basement.

It was dark inside the basement, the torches flickering on their lowest setting, casting the central tables and chairs into eerie light. The whole basement was circular, with a raised wooden platform in the centre. There were three smaller chambers that extended from the main basement; two to the side and one straight ahead. They contained the training room, herbalism station, and the bunks where Blades and Initiates could sleep. Members of the Unseen were allowed to sleep in the rooms of the house upstairs, but nobody ever really wanted to. Instead, they all preferred to hang out in the cold dark basement with the weaponry. Which, now Tessa thought about it, was a realistic side effect from being part of a group who lived in the shadows.

Tessa mused on this as she made her way towards the bunk chamber, so that she didn't notice the single figure sitting alone at one of the tables on the central platform. Until they spoke, at least.

“What's got your head in the clouds?”

Tessa jumped, spinning on the spot, halfway to the bunks, looking towards the tables in the middle of the room. Sitting in a chair was a figure mostly hidden by their own shadow cloak. As Tessa watched, however, they lifted their hands and slowly pushed back their hood, revealing a weathered old woman with long silvery hair and a wide smile.

“Rose, you can't hide in your cloak and expect me to notice you.” Tessa said with a sigh, folding her arms across her chest.

“Oh, don't give me that.” Rose said, fixing Tessa with a hard stare. “We both know your eyes could see me even if I was sat here in total darkness.”

“You know, that sounded like a compliment,” Tessa said absently, letting her shadow cloak slide off her shoulders and down her arms, then carefully folding it over one arm, “And yet it felt so much like an insult.” She said, turning away from the central platform and heading towards the bunks. 

Each bed had a chest at its foot, where the bed's occupant could store their belongings. Rose was silent as Tessa opened her chest with her foot and folded the cloak into it. Most of the other bunks were empty; the other Blades were probably out on contracts or doing whatever it was that other people did with their spare time. Tessa closed the lid as quietly as she could, so to not disturb the two sleeping Blades. Rose was still silent, watching Tessa with a straightforward, worldly gaze as if assessing her.

Tessa pointedly ignored the old woman, turning her back on the chamber's opening and beginning to take off most of her knife belts. Some she left on, like the simple fan of throwing knives she carried on her hips. The ones around her legs, arms, and torso she freed with ease, folding them onto her bed with the soft clatter of colliding metal. Once they were all off she'd hang them all up on the hooks above her bed, then take them down the next morning for polishing.

As she was removing the last few knives, Rose spoke.

“Come here,” She said, her soft voice echoing across the empty cavern. “I have a story to tell you.”

Tessa rolled her eyes. “I'm not a little girl any more,” She replied, without turning, “I don't need to hear any of your stories.”

“Yes, you do.” Rose said, simply.

Tessa paused. Rose had been the first one to find her, bloody and shaking in the entry hall outside. It had been years ago, when Rose's hair still had colour, but Rose's voice still sometimes took on the same commanding tone that it had on that day, when she'd barked orders to the rest of the Unseen and taken Tessa in, and it was the voice that she used now, making Tessa feel like that same little girl. Closing her eyes and sighing, she turned around and headed back out of the chamber, stepping up onto the platform.

“Sit,” Rose said, pointing to the ground between her feet.

“Oh no,” Tessa said, taking a step backwards. “I'll listen to your story, but I'm not sitting at your feet so you can braid my hair. I don't even have any hair for you to braid!”

Rose gave her a level look, “And who's fault is that?” She said, “I told you not to cut your hair, but as usual, you ignored me and did it anyway. Now, sit here and let me tell you my story.”

With a highly exaggerated eye roll, Tessa dropped to the floor and shuffled backwards until Rose's knees bumped against her shoulders. Almost immediately, the old woman's weathered hands picked up a few locks of Tessa's hair and began to twist them together, with surprising dexterity.

“What do you know about soul bonds?” Asked Rose, her voice softer than Tessa had ever heard it.

“I know they're not real.” Tessa said, “That they're just – hey!” She jolted forwards, yanking her hair out of Rose's hands and turning her head round to glare at her. “What was that for!?” She asked, ruefully, rubbing her head where Rose had pulled her hair.

“Of course they're real, stupid girl.” Rose said, irritably, gesturing for Tessa to come back.

“They're just children's stories...” Tessa muttered, scooting backwards. She wanted to say more, but Rose's nails were scratching her scalp, so she held her tongue.

“They're rare nowadays, though all accounts say that they used to be far more common many years ago. Soul bonds are peculiar things, nobody really knows how they came about.” Rose's voice had taken on a dream-like quality, one Tessa remembered from her earliest days in the Unseen's base. 

“Some stories say that you're spelled into finding your soul bond, but the best guess is a blessing from the Gods. Soul bonds are not _made_ , they just _are_. Which is to say that you're born with a soul bond, lying bound and dormant deep inside your soul. The bonds are unbound through certain actions, like a kiss or a comforting touch, or even something as simple as the act of giving a gift. However, because of this, you might go your whole life without ever finding your bonded soul, simply because the bond is never unbound.”

Rose changed from braiding the short strands of Tessa's hair to massaging Tessa's scalp, and Tessa closed her eyes, allowing the feeling of hands in her hair and Rose's soft voice to carry her away.

“Once unbound, the bonds become restless and will try to guide you to your other half. Gently at first, in order to give the two souls chance to recognise each other and release the bond naturally themselves. I believe it's a gradual process, but I also believe they can become unstable if left for too long; similar to Mage Consumption, although I don't think it's powerful enough to turn you to ash. Soul bonds don't control you, however much it might sound like it. They don't force you to love the other person, they just draw you towards them so that you can fall in love if that's the plan for you. Soul bonds also _can_ be rejected, though that is something I've never looked into, myself. Bonds that mimic soul bonds can be created, if a couple desires. It's not a difficult spell, though it is an incredibly taxing one that usually requires multiple mages to perform.”

Rose was silent for a moment, letting her words hang in the air for Tessa to absorb.

“This doesn't sound much like a story,” Tessa mumbled, feeling drowsy from the way Rose's hands were massaging her scalp.

“I know,” Rose said, with a soft laugh, “But I had to adjust my tale due to your idiotic belief that soul bonds don't exist.”

Tessa hummed in response, letting her head fall slightly further back.

“Depending on the strength of the bond, there are a few side effects,” Rose continued, “The first, and arguably most noticeable, is the presence of the bond itself, and the fact that you're usually able to feel your partners feelings through it. I believe it's primarily used to be able to sense if your partner is in danger, or to communicate non-verbally and make yourselves a formidable team. The second side effect is most definitely an advantage, and that's the fact that through this bond, you're able to share your Wielder's ability with your partner. It takes time, concentration, willpower, and considerable strength. But with practise, it can become second nature to share. The third is a physical change, and that's the presence of a soul mark.”

Tessa felt Rose's fingers falter almost imperceptibly against her scalp.

“The soul mark is what declares you bonded to the rest of the world, and that which links you directly to the other person and becomes the source of the bond's powers. It only appears when you and your partner accept the bond and each other, although in stronger bonds there is a chance it will begin appearing once the bond is unbound.”

“How do you know all this?” Tessa asked, her voice sluggish and slow. She opened her eyes and blinked rapidly a few times, trying to clear the fog from her mind. If she hadn't known that Rose would never do such a thing to her, she would be tempted to consider that she'd cast some sort of listening spell over her.

Rose chuckled softly, but it was a sad sound. “You've never asked me about the marks on my arm.” She said, quietly.

“I always thought it was some sort of mage... magic related accident,” Tessa said thickly, confused by the subject change and the fog still clouding her brain. Then the fog cleared, and she sat upright, shaking Rose's hands out of her hair.

“Oh.” She said, “ _Oh_.”

“Yes,” Rose said, running a hand over Tessa's hair, smoothing it down from where her hands had left it sticking up. “That... is what's left of my soul mark.”

“Oh, Gods...” Tessa breathed, dropping her head onto Rose's knee. “What happened?”

“I don't remember,” Rose said, with the tone of somebody who does remember and yet doesn't want to talk about it. “Besides, you should go to sleep. I know you think you can go for days without it, but I still remember the incident with the-”

“Nope!” Tessa sat up again, shaking her head, shuffling around to face Rose. “No, we are not going there. Besides, what about my story?”

Rose huffed a laugh. “I thought you were too old for stories.”

Tessa rolled her eyes, “I _am_ , but now you've got me curious. Why are you telling me about soul bonds, anyway?”

Rose smiled a knowing smile, raising her eyebrows slightly and tilting her head to one side. “Because at last there's something in you that will understand and accept it.” Rose leaned forwards slightly, reaching out with one hand to cup Tessa's cheek. “You've come a long way.” She added, gently.

Tessa, leaning in to the touch and smiling softly, rolled her eyes again. “I think you're going soft in your old age, Rose.” She said, scuffling backwards and getting to her feet. With a quick pat, she brushed dust off of her legs and backside.

Rose gave a short laugh. “Not likely,” She said, gazing up at Tessa, her eyes dancing with mischief. “Now, be off with you, before I _send_ you off.” She waggled her fingers in Tessa's direction, sparks of her magic crackling between them.

“Consider me told!” Tessa replied, chuckling, “See you tomorrow, Rosellina.” She inclined her head towards the older woman, holding it there for a beat. Then she spun on her heel and headed towards the bunks, thinking eagerly of the soft mattress that awaited her inside the second chamber.


	5. Belle - City Lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey look, a real update!! And this (should) take me over 19k, and my main characters are only just meeting for real. Whoops lmao
> 
> I wrote most of this bit on my boyfriend's hijacked ipad, so there's probably bunch of formatting and word errors, because i haven't actually run any edits on this thing yet, but hey ho.

“Are you sure you've got everything?” Dianne asked, fussing around Belle's ankles as she sat astride Strider. Faye was next to her, sitting astride a good natured heavy set chestnut gelding.

“Yes, Ma, we're sure.” Faye said for the fourth time, as she adjusted one of the straps on the saddlebags sitting behind her saddle. “Belle didn't even come with much.”

“Are you sure you won't take any more gold?” Belle asked Dianne, hopefully.

Dianne simply smiled and shook her head. “Absolutely not.” She said, placing her hands on her hips. “Consider it a favour, from one survivor to another.”

Belle blinked back her surprise, feeling her eyes start to sting.

“It takes one to know one, honey.” Dianne said, softly, “Go out there and make your life your own. Make that little girl proud of you.”

Unable to form any words, Belle simply nodded, feeling her heart swell with affection for the woman standing in front of her. She couldn't call her a stranger any more, not really. She was a friend.

Belle swallowed thickly, “I'll see you all again.”

Dianne laughed, “I'm sure you will. Now go on, be off with you both!”

“Yes, Ma!” Faye said, gathering up her horse's reins. Belle followed suit, feeling her excitement building at the prospect of being out on Strider again, this time in broad daylight. She'd missed out on being able to take in all the beautiful scenery she'd undoubtedly passed due to the fact she'd been riding in the dark.

It had been quickly established that the city market was not the market held in the same city that Belle had just left, but in the next city on (which was really just a town in comparison with the size of the city Belle had fled, but she chose not to mention that), and was about an hour's journey from the tavern. It turned out that Belle had only ridden for around three hours the night before, an impressive feat considering the distance she and Strider had covered was close to 20 miles. A feat that she credited entirely to Strider, seeing as he'd carried her the whole way.

With a final wave to Dianne and Ed, Belle turned Strider's head and set off down the path leading back to the main road she'd been following the night before. Faye was already a few strides ahead of her, her long hair swaying with the motion of ride, and Belle urged Strider into a quick trot in order to catch up. The path was short, though lined dense with trees, and passed over the wide, low bridge that Belle had failed to notice the night before through the darkness and the rain. The river that passed underneath was quiet but deep enough that Belle couldn't make out the bottom.

Belle and Faye rode to the road in companionable silence, but as they hit the main path and turned right, Belle turned to Faye and asked, “You know, I've never really talked with a mage before, what's it like?”  
Faye's face lit up in delight, giving Belle the impression that nobody had ever asked her that question before.

“It's amazing!” She declared, “I've been training with one of the other mages in the city we're heading to right now, and I've learned so much! I never would've guessed that I'd be a mage; Ma's an empath and Pa hasn't got any powers, so it was kinda a surprise when I started showing powers. Apparently, if I really focus, I can learn to fly!” Faye almost squealed, then checked herself with a quick glance down at horse, who hadn't so much as flicked an ear back. “Well, not actually fly like a bird, but I can learn to use the air to support me in the air for short distances. I can't wait!”

Faye's excitement was contagious, and Belle found herself smiling involuntarily as the other girl talked. While Faye continued to chatter about her mage training, Belle watched the trees around her. They rose high above the path, forming a leafy green canopy overhead. The light was shining down in shafts through the gaps, and birds were flitting between branches above them.

Belle was so absorbed in her sightseeing that she almost missed the question Faye asked to her.

“What power do you have?”

“Huh? Oh, I – I don't have a power.” She said, turning her head to look at Faye riding next to her. “At least, I don't think I do.”

“Really? It feels like you do.” Faye cocked her head to one side, looking at Belle curiously. She stared at her for so long that Belle was starting to feel uncomfortable when she finally spoke again.

“You could be an Equestrian.” She stated, with such simplicity that Belle almost felt silly for never having considered it before.

“I – what makes you say that?” She asked.

“Well, you rode for a hard three hours to get here last night, right? And you can't've had a great night's sleep, but you're back riding again without once complaining that you're saddle sore.” Faye said, “Plus, your horse looks no worse for wear after that trip, so you were probably lending him strength without even realising.”

Stunned, Belle couldn't find the words to reply and so settled for a simple, “Huh.”

Taking the silence as an opportunity, Faye carried on, “There's this sort of... energy surrounding Wielders and other mages that some of us can detect. I don't know why I can and my mother can't; she didn't even know I was a mage until I once sneeze and caused all the books to fly off the bookcase!”

When Belle said nothing in reply, they lapsed back into comfortable silence, leaving Belle to consider Faye's words. She'd never really thought about having a power before, and the ease with which Faye discussed them startled her. Back in the city, children often started showing signs of their powers at young ages – particularly in the case of mages – or could be tested at any point in their lives. Belle had no real idea what went on in the 'test' as her parents had never allowed her to go, saying that they didn't want their only daughter involved in anything as rough and dirty as the Wielder's Test.

Her father was a Wielder, she knew that. Her mother was Powerless, the way it 'should' be for a woman. The man her parents had married her off to – Reginald Bancroft – had also been a Wielder. A One-Handed Sword Wielder, to be precise. The more public parts of their house were covered in swords, hung on the walls like art pieces. She wasn't sure exactly why he'd done it, but at the same time she knew exactly why he'd done it. They were trophies, just like she was. Status symbols, symbols of his power. By displaying them on the walls he was sending a message to anyone who saw them. 'This is what gives me power,' he was saying, 'Cross me and you'll see for yourself.' She was only glad that he hadn't treated her with the same mentality; the last thing she would've wanted would have been to end up on his wall, in any sense of the phrase.

She remembered a time when she was about 10. She'd snuck out, down to her father's armoury when he wasn't looking, and tried handling a variety of the swords, daggers, bows, maces, spears, and even axes that she'd found. Nothing she'd picked up - not even the smallest of the daggers - had felt right in her hands, they way Wielder's were supposed to feel about their weapon. Everything had just felt cold and heavy in her hands, none of the weapons had come alive under her touch. She remembered being angry about it, remembered the bitter taste of salty tears, remembered flinging one of the shortest swords across the room and straight into a suit of armour, knocking it into pieces and alerting one of the guards to her whereabouts. They'd come down and dragged her away, kicking and screaming, yelling about how unfair it was that everyone else got to be Wielders and she didn't even get to take the test.

Her parents had taken her by the shoulders that day, looked straight into her bloodshot eyes in her tear-streaked, snotty face, and told her that the Wielder's Test wasn't 'suitable' for a girl like her. Yes, being a Wielder was a great honour, but it was an honour meant for boys, not for little noble girls, and that she should be relieved that she wasn't one of them, instead of throwing infantile tantrums like a child half her age. She should forget this juvenile nonsense, and move on.  
She remembered the day her one of her friends had come round. The other girl had gushed to Belle all about the Wielder's Test (details of which Belle had since forgotten) and how it turned out that she was a Knife Wielder and how that was incredible and amazing and all the different possibilities that it meant for her future. She'd been so excited, but Belle had felt the sour sting of jealously in the back of her throat when she'd heard. Why did this girl get to be a Wielder, but Belle wasn't even allowed to try out?

It was probably the last day she'd ever seen that girl, too. Her parents had deemed her an 'inappropriate friend' for their delicate daughter, and that was that.

As she'd got older, it had become cemented in her that her parents were wrong, but she still consented to play along. It was easier for all of them if she didn't fight them on it, or on anything else. Including their choice of husband.

But now, she was a young woman capable of making her own decisions and own choices, and if it turned out that she did have powers, then she was damn well going to own them!

She turned to Faye, and asked, “How do I find out for sure?”

“I'm not really sure you can.” She said, pursing her lips in thought. “It's not something as clear cut as being a mage or a Wielder; those have defined limits and bonuses. Being an Equestrian... I guess it's something you just know.” She said, shrugging. “Sorry it's kind of vague.”

“Vague is fine,” Belle said with a chuckle, “It's better than anything else I've had.”

“Hmm,” Faye said, “Okay, let me try again. We've covered it briefly when we studied other powers, so I know a little bit. Equestrians... they don't get any saddle aches, their body just sort of adapts and accepts the strain. Sitting in the saddle is the most natural thing in the world to them, and they can lend their horses their horses their strength to keep them going in difficult times or on long journeys. Does any of that sound familiar?”

“Sort of?” Belle said, unsure, staring down at Strider's black mane. “I haven't exactly ridden much recently, but it's something I've always loved, even when I was a little girl. I feel... stronger, when I'm on horseback. It's like a surge of energy I didn't know I had. I feel... free. Free and powerful because of it.”

Belle glanced at Faye shyly out of the corner of her eye. She'd never really talked about herself like this before, and it felt strange. But Faye was nodding like the whole conversation was normal. To her, though, Belle thought suddenly, it probably is.

“Like I said, it's not exact, but that sounds pretty certain to me. If you think it fits you, then go ahead and call yourself an Equestrian. Nobody can really prove you wrong, after all.” Faye said, shooting an encouraging smile Belle's way.

Belle smiled back, a warm feeling taking root deep inside her. She had a power. A power that was hers, a power that gave her freedom.

A power that gave her an identity.

She was an Equestrian.

Warmth flooded through her bones like fire, her grin almost splitting her face in two.

*

The city was far more crowded than Belle had expected; there were people hurrying _everywhere_ and the noise of the crowd on top of the sound of market meant that the whole thing was almost deafening.

She and Faye had ridden straight up to the city's stables and left their horses with the stable's owner, who was a man Faye seemed to know well, if they way they chattered about the Tavern was anything to go by. Belle had stood idly by as Faye chatted animatedly with the other man, entertaining Amber by pulling faces at her.

After Faye had tossed the man a coin and a wink, they'd joined the foot procession heading into the town. Being a smaller than Belle's city, there were a large number of houses outside the walls, instead of the small number of farm houses and the single tavern that Belle was used to. Inside the city walls were most of the houses and the city market, but the stables, farm houses, and the poorest houses all clustered around the outside. She scuttled along behind Faye, who bounced along the stone path with ease, telling Belle all about what to expect at the city market while gracefully weaving in and out of the other people on the road. Belle kept her head down and followed along more sedately, pressing Amber tightly into her chest as if to hide her.

They breezed through the city gates with ease; the only people the guardsmen were interested in were those with carts or any kind of loaded barrow. Anyone bringing anything significant into the city were stopped and searched or questioned, but two young women were low of the guards list of concerns and so they passed through the giant arched wooden gateway without any trouble.

The city itself was a maze of cobbled streets shadowed by tall wooden buildings, with coloured shop fronts and hanging baskets of flowers on every corner. Various smells followed them as they floated through the streets; of cooking breads and of herbs and spices used in Herbalist spells. People talked and laughed amongst themselves as they went about their daily business, apparently oblivious to Faye and Belle who moved among them. The more pairs of eyes that slid over Belle without so much as a reaction, the more relaxed she became. It seemed that bedraggled women carrying babies weren't a particular cause for alarm in this city, and it wasn't until they arrived in the market square that Belle realised exactly why she was able to pass unseen.

“It's not normally this crowded.” Faye cried, over the din of the vendors and customers. “But everyone's in town for the Princess's birthday celebrations! They're due to last the whole week, so the city's been overrun! But have you seen the decorations and the lights!?” Faye made a sweeping gesture with her arms, nearly knocking the hat off the head of a passing lady, “They're so beautiful!”

Faye seemed to realise that they were standing in way of the main thoroughfare in and out of one side of the market, so she grabbed Belle's arm and whirled away, dragging the poor woman after her. They stopped in the corner between two shops, next to a large leafy plant and behind a jewellery saleswoman, who eyed them once before turning back to continue trying to sell her wares.

“Were you planning to stay in town for the celebrations?” Faye asked absently, peering into the crowds over the back of the jewellery seller. Using Faye's distraction as a chance to look nervous, Belle shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot and said nothing. “This place trades like normal during the day, but as soon as the sun goes down there's supposed to be music and dancing and food from out of town. My parents won't let me stay for that, though. But,” She added, somewhat bitterly, “They're happy to let me be part of the crowd during the day, even though there’s so many more people now than later.”

“I'd forgotten about the Princess's birthday.” Belle muttered, mostly to herself. She wasn't sure if she should consider it a blessing or a curse; it meant that there would be more eyes to notice her and to say where she was if anyone came around asking. But on the flip side to that, there would be more people for her to hide amongst and it was less likely that anyone would take much notice of a woman and a baby – they'd probably just assume she brought her daughter out to join in.

“How could you forget about the Princess's birthday?” Faye cried, turning back to Belle, apparently having located whatever she'd been looking for within the crowds. “It's all anyone’s been able to talk about for the last few weeks! There's even been a big ball planned for all the nobles, so naturally everyone's been talking about that for months.”

“I don't get out much.” Belle said, with a short laugh. It was a sad truth, but one that she wasn’t afraid to admit to. Whatever her tentative cover story might be, the fact of the matter was that nobody with any sense would expect a woman who looked as tattered as she did to be mixing with society of any kind. Factor in Amber and her pale skin, and it was painfully obvious that she didn’t leave the house a great deal.

Faye stared at her incredulously for a few moments, before an excited yet devious grin blossomed on her face, widening and lighting up her eyes. 

Belle, somewhat apprehensively, smiled and said, “What...?”

“You’ve never been to a market before, have you?” Faye asked, taking Belle by the hands. Partly due to the shadows cast by the buildings they stood beside and partly due to the fact that Faye was a clear head taller than she, Belle felt as if Faye now loomed above her, grinning dangerously. But, here she was, standing in the shadowed corner of a market in a city miles from any she had ever called her home, holding the hands of a girl who had been completely unknown to her less than a day prior, on the run from her husband and his guards with their six month old baby and loving every second of it. What could be more dangerous than that? No, she hadn’t been to a city market before. Unsurprisingly, her parents had deemed the market unsafe and unsightly, and had always sent their servants instead of going themselves. Gods forbid they’d ever let their precious and delicate daughter go somewhere they wouldn’t even go themselves. 

Excitement coiled in the pit of her stomach as she realised exactly what Faye’s plan might be. While she’d only known the girl for a day, she was a fairly transparent person and made her easy to read, even to Belle who had never had to hone or use that particular skill. She felt the corners of her mouth pull up involuntarily as she lifted her eyes to meet Faye’s daring gaze with one of her own.

“No,” she said, grinning broadly and returning Faye’s tight grip on her hands, “No, I haven’t.”

It was clearly the answer Faye had been expecting, as she gave a small excited squeak, and dragged Belle back into the market crowds, both of them laughing as they did so.

They spent the better half of the day traversing the market, which had turned out to span several courtyards. One looked like a permanent fixture, while the others looked like all of their stands had been hastily erected in the last few days, as some of them had lopsided awnings or sloping tops. Faye had dragged her to nearly every stand, just to see what was offered as neither of them could afford anything. There’d been all kinds of things; weaponry, gems, jewellery, meats, vegetables, toys and clothes for children, bakery treats, exotic herbs, all kinds of potions and salves, vast amount of princess memorabilia, and many stands of books that Belle had been sorely jealous of. There were leather bound books, ones with coloured covers, ones with golden corners, an array of swirling fonts in a rainbow of colours, and they covered nearly every topic Belle could imagine.

She felt like Faye had been leading in her complicated dance, flitting between stands and twirling around the other people at such a rapid pace that Belle’s feet could barely keep up. She kept one arm around Amber’s carrier at all times for her own peace of mind. They danced down the streets, skipping in and out of multiple shops, Belle breathing in deeply to take in all of the delicious smells. Faye chatted up a few handsome young bakers, who had slipped them chunks of cakes and sweets in return for Faye’s flattering words and sweet smiles, and Belle barely had time to stuff hers into her mouth before Faye had seized her wrist once again and dragged them on to the next shop, calling her thanks and leaving a multitude of puzzled and bemused young men in their wake. None of the men seemed too upset, which amazed Belle, but with her elfin features, dazzling smiles, and long blonde hair, Faye had an unsuspecting charm and beauty that made most people willing to give her whatever she wanted, Belle included. 

As the sun began to sink lower in the sky, lights began to come on in the streets. Jars over everlasting fire had been threaded onto rope and suspended between buildings so that they dangled above the streets, bathing everything in a soft, warm yellow glow. As the intense flow of people on the streets began to ebb, Belle realised that the jars were being knocked together by the wind, creating a faint clinking noise. She wasn’t sure if this was a usual feature in this particular city, or something strung up to create ambience during the festivities held in honour of the princesses first birthday. She didn’t particularly care for the answer, because they were beautiful either way. The first time she noticed them, she had stopped dead in the middle of the street, yanking Faye to a halt as she stared upwards into the darkening sky. Faye had turned and laughed at her, a sound that rang as clear and true as the sound of the tinkling jars. Then Faye had pulled her onwards, back into the thinning crowds and to another street of store fronts.

They only stopped as the sun was going down, as Faye needed to be home close to sun down or else Edward and Dianne would worry.

“Do you know where you’re going from here?” Faye asked, biting her lip nervously. “I didn’t mean to take up all of your day, I’m sorry. I’m sure you were wanting to plan your next moves, unless you were planning on staying here for a while.”

Belle smiled back, feeling at ease despite everything. Maybe it had something to do with the fact they’d just spent the whole day exploring the city and it’s market together, something she’d never done before. Or perhaps it was to do with the book stall they were in front of, and the comforting smell of paper and ink and leather bindings was helping to calm her.

“I don’t, but it’s okay. I had a lot of fun today, so thank you.” She told her, turning to browse the selection of soft covered books. “I guess I’ll just find a room for the two of us tonight.” She hadn’t wanted to say anything, but all day she’d had a growing feeling that she was meant to be in this city, similar to the feeling that had led her to Faye’s tavern. Except, this feeling was less of a dull pull and more like a sense of knowing something that she didn’t yet understand.

“You might find that quite hard,” Faye said, thoughtfully, “There’s a lot of people here from out of town, all of the rooms might be booked up. I know a guy in the Golden Mare, though, I could see if I can get you a room?”

“No that’s okay, you’ve all done enough.” Belle smiled, “I’m sure we’ll be okay.”

But Faye wasn’t listening to her as she said, “Nope, I’m going to go and talk to him.” She flashed Belle a quick smile, “You stay right here!” And then she flounced away, leaving Belle standing in front of the bookseller’s table without having so much as opened her mouth. Reaching out, she picked up a book and stroked its soft purple cover, admiring the sprawling golden font of its title. She was just about to flick the pages open and inhale the smell of paper, when she was startled into freezing.

“I hope that’s not what you’re going to waste that generous gift on,” said the voice, from the shadows, “I distinctly remember it being given to you for supplies and boarding.”

“If it is a gift that is given to me,” Belle said, her voice sounding stiff as she remained frozen, staring at the purple book on the stall in front of her, her heart dancing a tap dance inside her chest, “Then surely I can do what I wish with it?”

“That is true, but surely it would only be polite to use such a gift in the way that the gifter intended that it be used?”

“Perhaps it would be polite to address a lady to her face, instead of lurking in the shadows out of sight?”

“Maybe _you_ should look at _me_ , instead of staring ahead like you hope that I might disappear if you don’t.” There was a pause, as if the speaker was uncertain. “Unless, of course, that is what you wish, and then it will be like I was never here.”

Belle faltered for a moment, her heart hammering against her chest. Is that what she wanted? For the strange cloaked woman who had haunted her thoughts to disappear, just like that? The mere fact that Tessa had offered... The thing in her chest, the feeling that said this she was where she was meant to be, the long, ancient and yet achingly familiar pull was going crazy. Something about this woman, about Tessa, was known to her. She didn’t know why, yet, but she was here, far from home with no idea what she was doing or where she was going, so why not do something a little crazy?

“No,” Belle said, her voice impossibly soft, “That is not what I wish.”

“Perhaps, then,” replied the voice, equally as softly, “We should both be the one to come forward.”

Belle made a small noise of consent, nodding her head. She straightened, swallowing to push her heart down from where it has risen into her throat. A buzzing began in her ears as she waited to a count of three, and then turned to face the voice. 

Tessa stood just out of the shade of the building, leaning idly against the post of the book stall and looking as though she’d been waiting there for hours. Perhaps she had. If Belle had thought she’d imagined the intensity of those amber eyes, or the mischievous curl of the woman’s mouth, she was sorely mistaken. As she met the other woman’s eyes, time seemed to slow and the buzzing in her eyes grew in volume until it was a roar, drowning out the noise of the crowd until it could’ve been just the two of them standing in the market courtyard, eyes locked. Time stretched before them, neither saying anything, as Belle wondered whether Tessa could feel the same energy that she could. Given Tessa’s lazy smile, she imagined not.

Tessa cleared her throat, making Belle jump. “My name is Tessa Cassidy,” she said, sweeping her cloak back with one hand, folding the other across her waist and sinking into a low bow, “A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

For a moment Belle thought Tessa was being serious, until the other woman lifted her head and winked at her, smiling playfully.

Feeling some of the tension between then dissipate, Belle found herself grinning. Holding her skirt with one hand, she sank into a mock curtesy. “Belle Holt,” she said, giving the last name of a friend she once had, “And the pleasure is all mine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao they haven't even had a real conversation what am i doing with this


End file.
